Stiles arrived at the Nemeton almost as soon as he thought of it. He popped right into the sunlit space on top of the stump. He opened himself up to the Nemeton and with a little magical pull and twist, cloaked the old grove. He twined the earth's magic to mislead footsteps, warped the light so no stray sight could penetrate and tuned the air so no ear could hear or nose could smell.
When there was no way for anyone to find the Nemeton and therefor himself, Stiles fell across the stump and dipped down deep into its core. He let it wrap around him. The grove and the forest merged with him until Stiles Stilinski fell away and he was himself no more.
***
He was watching the passing of time; light, dark, days, nights. They were moving and he moved with them, sometimes walking through the forest, sometimes running. Sometimes he was still, so still the animals forgot he was there and came close to him. Even if he moved they had no fear of him because he was the trees, the earth, the air, the sky, the sun, the rain and the lightning. He slept when he was tired, he ate the sunlight and earth energy, and drank the rain in its many forms of dew, mist and creek and the rivers small and wide.
He watched the flowers bud, the leaves become heavier and the plants push their way through the ground towards the sky. He could feel the movement of the earth, the growth and death of everything in his forest. He watched the deer birth their fawns and welcomed a new wobbly legged bright-eyed one who nudged his outstretched hand in search of milk and connection.
He climbed the tallest trees. He swayed with the wind in their topmost branches, through the heaviest of lightning storms and the lightest of airy breezes.
He laughed, long and free, the first time the song of the stars became audible. He watched them dance across clear bright night skies and into early mornings.
The weather got warmer and he rejoiced to feel the sunlight heating through him, deeper and stronger as the days got longer.
He maintained the magic that concealed the Tree and remained hidden from all those on two legs who trampled heavily on the land. They were not of the forest and not to be trusted. There was sometimes a pulling on the Tree's boundaries. He marked the ones who came to disturb and made sure to send them further away each time. He laughed at their fumbling attempts and if his glee reached their ears, it only made him laugh longer when they flinched and called out to each other when they got separated by his tricks.
There was one who was slyer than the rest and got the closest more than once. This one was always alone and smelt of bad things, bad memories that made him hiss and want to attack. Instead, he coaxed the bad-smelling one into falling off a short cliff. They'd been hurt and angry, but had stayed away from then on, and he'd been glad and relieved.
There was a wolf pack that howled at night with a coyote. He'd never seen them, only listened to their howls and tracked them by using earth magic. They had slippery magic of their own, he could never catch a glimpse of them and it intrigued him. He only ever found the annoying two-legs.
The howls sounded like they were for him. He wanted to call back but remained silent, listening to them ranging over the forest. It confused him that the pack would call for him because they were strangers. He must be mistaken.
The wolves had eventually moved on as the days got warmer, their howls stopped and he was saddened by their loss. Even the coyote went. The nights were silent and he missed their comforting mournful cries.
He was high up in one of his sleep trees one very warm night, swinging upside down by his legs, when a lone wolf's howl echoed over the mountain ridge.
He dropped down to the ground and raced through the forest, trying to find it. He changed direction as it called again. He was sure it was one of the wolves from the pack and it called for him. He could feel the pull of its howl as he jumped over and around obstacles, flitting along, making no noise. He almost called back, although he couldn't howl like a wolf, but stayed silent. Even though his blood rushed faster the closer he got, he was also wary of danger.
He came to the edge of his forest and stopped, stood very still, listened and watched. He'd been called to the aspen trees. He loved these trees but never went there during the day. Something made him stay away. Only rarely and at night did he slink into their reach and under their creaking canopy.
The howl came again, closer this time, and he stepped quickly into the aspens and followed. By the time he glimpsed the wolf for the first time, it was pre-dawn. It was sniffing around one of the flat areas and whimpering like it was in pain, although no injury was apparent. It was a gloriously strong animal, with deep black fur from nose to tail. He watched it, titling his head, as it curled around and around and finally lay itself down close to a tree.
He found himself wanting to go closer, which was strange. He rarely interacted with animals, content to just watch and observe. He never pulled away from the more curious or brave among them, though, and could walk through a herd or run past flocks and none reacted in fear, for he was the wind and sun to them. Yet this wolf was different. He could feel it, the pull was stronger now. He was curious enough to move towards it. He made no sound and was almost close enough to touch when it opened its eyes.
The wolf jumped up but didn't growl or make any sign of aggression. It made aborted moves towards him, a raised paw that it kept putting back down. Its tail was wagging, but tucked under its rear. A desperate whine was coming from between closed lips and its eyes kept glancing up to lock with his own before darting away.
Its behavior was strange and made him even more curious. Wolves were incredibly smart and perhaps that was why it was reacting to him differently than the other animals did. As he watched, it started to change shape and suddenly there was no wolf, but a two-legs standing there.
He yelped and sprung backwards as the two-legs reached out towards him. It cried out as he turned and ran away. He could hear it running after him, calling, and he ran faster until he was back at the Tree.
The wolf was a trickster. It had tricked him. He would stay away from now on.
***
He hadn't stayed away.
He found the wolf too compelling. It stayed in the aspen forest for the next day while he watched it, bending air and light to remain invisible to its keen senses.
It didn't change into a two-legs again, though now its trick was revealed he could see the two-legs within the wolf, the wolf within the two-legs. There was a blending until the two were almost indistinguishable. Such clever magic. He was reluctantly impressed.
The wolf ventured out into his forest, howling, howling, listening. Calling for him. It took a great strength of will not to show himself to the wolf. It missed him.
After the sun had risen and set more than once, he found he didn't want to leave the wolf's side, although it didn't know he was there. He was still very wary. Wolf's man-shape had scared him badly. Did it have other tricks it was waiting to use on him?
Wolf trail marked and scented its way through the forest, making sure to howl only at night. If Wolf's howls got progressively sadder as each night wore on, he ignored the pull on his heart to make Wolf feel better by showing himself.
Tonight, Wolf hadn't howled, instead it walked with its head down, back towards the aspen forest. Wolf hadn't eaten, though it had drunk water while it was searching. Perhaps it was going somewhere to hunt? He wouldn't have minded if Wolf had hunted in his forest. Animals hunted every night and day, and he would have liked to follow along. But it was not to be, apparently. He was worried as Wolf went away, and kept close. He only stopped following when Wolf crossed the last long flat area before the aspen forest ended.
He must have made a sound because Wolf stopped and turned around, its ears pricking up. Wolf must have seen him, too, though he didn't know how, as he was still shrouded in silence and darkness, but Wolf's eyes found his and they watched each other for a long time before he blinked and Wolf tilted its head one way then the other. It stretched and shivered and its thick black ruff shook with the movement. He wanted to sink his fingers into it.
Wolf turned around and padded away through the trees until it was lost to sight.
He stayed there and waited for Wolf through the night and into the next one.
***
He was sad because Wolf hadn't come back. Eventually he'd left the aspen forest to go back to his Tree, but nothing was the same for him. There was no joy in his days, in his nights. He understood Wolf's howling now because his own heart was howling back.
The moon was coming back to full when Wolf howled again. He was drinking from one of the many long streams and creeping around in the shallows, trying to tickle the little shiny fish with his quick fingers. When Wolf howled he cupped his hands around his mouth, scattering water droplets, and made his best wolf-howl impersonation. It held nowhere near the magic of his wolf's voice, but it would do.
Wolf answer immediately and it was filled with a happiness he could feel lift his own heart. He jumped up the bank of the river and raced towards where Wolf was.
When they met they tumbled into one another in a mass of fur and skin. Limbs were tangled and he was laughing. Wolf was grinning and huffing at him and licking his face and hands. He rubbed his hands over Wolf's fur and pulled gently at his ears. He rubbed his face into Wolf's muzzle. Wolf caught his gaze. There was no threat or pressure to look away. The gray wolf eyes changed to glowing blue. He knew this wolf, knew him so well, but also didn't, which wasn't entirely right. But the knowledge to make sense of things was hidden in the confusing foggy part of him that he didn't access. He didn't care.
He had his wolf, they were together now and all was well.
***
He and Wolf spent many days and nights in the forest together before he caught on that Wolf was trying to lead him back to the aspen forest. He'd held his ground though, even going so far as to run back along the ridge line they'd been trekking on, going in the opposite direction just to make a point that Wolf couldn't make him do anything he didn't want to.
He was curious though. What was so important in the aspen forest? He still had an aversion to it and would never go there during the day, even with Wolf. Sometimes Wolf would leave him on the edge of it, huffing at him to follow, but he always refused.
The first time Wolf left him, he'd had to hold in his displeasure. It had been his decision to stay, but he didn't know why Wolf chose to leave. When Wolf came back he'd smelt strange and off-putting, fur holding a strong scent that made him feel on edge. Wolf had to roll in sweet grass to rid himself of it.
As enough time went on, he found himself more and more curious as to where Wolf went when he entered the aspens. But he still didn't venture into the aspen forest unless it was night and then only for short periods of time. Wolf was always very quiet and withdrawn when they left it and came back to the older forest.
He took Wolf to the Tree.
The first time, Wolf had stayed on the edges of the clearing until invited in. He was happy that Wolf knew he was in a special place, but he wasn't surprised because Wolf knew him. Sometimes, he thought, better than he knew himself.
Today he stood at the edge of the aspen forest, upset Wolf was leaving again, because Wolf had only just come back from last time. Wolf surprised him by taking his hand and tugging him until he was under the aspen canopy. He surprised himself by allowing it. Wolf dropped his hand and licked it. He rubbed the soft silky part behind Wolf's ear that always made Wolf close his eyes and shake his head. He laughed as Wolf did just that but grew silent as he followed Wolf further into the forest.
Being there in daylight was strange. The trees sounded different to him than during the night; whispering and singing to him. Birds were winging their way through the upper branches, causing the sunlight to flicker, changing with their racing shadows. Wolf had to push him to keep him moving when he continued to stop to touch one tree after another. He found he knew these trees, they were his friends. Why hadn't he known this before?
He could feel memories pushing at him, trying to get past the foggy block in his mind. He ignored them and stopped touching anything. He followed along behind Wolf, both of them silent and sure footed. Wolf stopped, ears pricking up, stepping through the trees to cross the last walking trail.
He blinked as the name for the long flat winding area came into his head. More and more he was remembering names of things. The longer he stayed with Wolf, the more clear things became. He didn't want to tread on the walking trail, so he quickly sunlight-leaped to Wolf's side, making Wolf startle.
Wolf bumped against his side and walked further towards the edge of the forest. He could feel the air changing and he stopped. He leant against a tree and sent his awareness into the air to scout out the path ahead and find where Wolf was taking him. Wolf had watched him do this a few times but didn't understand what he was doing. He had no way to explain it as he never spoke out loud. He communicated well enough with Wolf that he had no need, nor want, to do so.
He travelled through the trees, flowing along a little breeze that swept down and swirled around a large cut through the earth that marked the end of the forest. The cut was a wound and made him cringe as the wind bore him along it. He flew with an updraft and was over the trees, bumping into a large human-made construction that made his body shudder where it listed against the tree.
He could feel Wolf licking his hand and wrist so he flew back to his body and blinked his eyes. He rubbed a hand across them. Air-flying wasn't as easy as tree-listening or sunlight-leaping, it made him feel tired and floaty inside his own body. He never used it as much as his other magic because of that. Also, Wolf got anxious when he did it.
He wasn't happy with Wolf. He knew now that Wolf was taking him towards people. He didn't want to go there. But Wolf was so hopeful that even though he was annoyed, he followed Wolf to the earth-wound. Wolf listened carefully, ears flicking back and forth, before jumping down to pad across the wound. Wolf whuffed quietly at him but he would go no further.
The wound was old but it still held the crying of its making. Trees had died for its creation and he would not listen to their ghosts by walking among them. The earth wanted to grow over and cover its scars but humans kept it clear and empty, pulling up any green that grew. It was a bad place and he didn't like it.
Wolf's eyes were sad but resigned as he turned and scampered up the other side of the wound and disappeared from view.
He was immediately lost without Wolf, standing so close to the earth-wound and near to where humans were. He faded into the aspen forest but kept close enough to see Wolf return.
It was some time before Wolf was standing at the top of the wound on the opposite side. Wolf whuffed softly and waited. Feeling less brave than he normally did, he crept out from under the aspen trees so Wolf would know he was still there. Wolf wagged his tail and then looked back over his shoulder.
There was a human making his way through the bushes towards Wolf!
He didn't know what to do. He was waiting for Wolf to run towards him but Wolf stayed still, watching the human, tail still wagging.
He wrapped the sunlight around himself to hide, but stayed where Wolf could smell him. He was trembling but he couldn't leave Wolf to a human. Why wasn't Wolf running away?
The human came up and stood beside Wolf.
Wolf turned towards the aspen forest and huffed in annoyance and disappointment at him for hiding. He didn't care. Wolf was standing near a human and was unafraid. Was this where Wolf went every time he left? He guessed that made sense. He forgot that Wolf was also a man and would spend time with humans. The human was looking back and forth between Wolf and the edge of the aspen forest. He seemed very sad.
Wolf huffed again and this time added a little growl. It had been ages since Wolf had growled at him, the last being when he dunked Wolf into the large lake for fun. He blinked in surprise. Wolf wanted him to show himself to the man? No. He wouldn't. He wanted to leave. But he couldn't leave Wolf. He didn't want Wolf to be over there.
He made a little noise, one that meant he wanted Wolf to come back to him. Wolf's ears picked up on it but he'd been too quiet for the man to hear him. Wolf shook his head and growled again. It wasn't an angry growl, more of an exasperated sound, telling him to hurry up and do what Wolf wanted. But he couldn't.
He made his call sound again, louder this time.
The man startled and focused on where the noise had come from but he was too well hidden, even out in the light, away from the trees. Wolf ignored his call. He tried again, not liking how desperate he sounded but he needed Wolf to come back to him.
Wolf got tired of waiting and bumped himself up against the man's leg. It was such a startling move he made an involuntary noise of distress at seeing it. The man cast a glance his way again and then down at Wolf. The man even had the nerve to rest a hand on Wolf's back!
He tried to growl like Wolf did, but it came out more like an angry hissing warning noise. The man pulled his hand back very quickly and stared again at where he was standing.
Wolf was smiling a bit, but at what he didn't know. He couldn't understand what Wolf was doing. This was dangerous. Wolf bumped the man again and then huffed over the earth-wound at him.
He called out to Wolf once more, quietly, pleading, but Wolf turned his back on him and walked away with the human following him! He cried out loud. No! Wolf must come back with him! Wolf was his!
He did then what Wolf wanted him to do; he unwrapped himself from within the sunlight and called loud and clear to Wolf.
Wolf turned around at the same time the man did. Wolf wagged his tail. He called to Wolf again, holding out his hands.
The man staggered a bit and cried, "Stiles!"
The sound of that name was like being hit in the face. He flinched and stepped backwards.
"Stiles, wait!" the man called to him.
He called out for Wolf. He opened up his hand and made a grabby motion towards him which Wolf finally reacted to, scrambling down the side of the wound and running across it. Wolf quickly got up the side where he was waiting. He wrapped his arms around Wolf and buried his face in neck fur as the man kept calling to him, over and over, Stiles, Stiles!
He knew it was his name. He would not listen. He stood up and, without looking back at the man who was crying now, motioned for Wolf and him to go back into the forest.
The man made a sudden movement, sliding down the side of the earth-wound, landing harshly and crying out in pain. Wolf immediately bounded down to the man.
As he watched, Wolf changed, and then there was no longer his lovely Wolf, but the man with the wolf-dark hair. He'd witnessed it before, but wanted to ignore it. His Wolf was beautiful and his, the man belonged to the human world where he would not go.
The man who'd called his name was desperate now, ignoring the leg injury and trying to get up, to come closer. His wolf-man stared at him, then turned to help the man.
He cried out in anger and frustration at his Wolf turning away from him. For this man! He hissed at them both and sunlight-leapt away from his heartbreak. He ignored Wolf when he came back to the forest later on when it was dark. He could hear Wolf howling for him, sorry, sorry, sorry, in every note.
He climbed up a redwood, until he was so high Wolf would never find him and the world was so tiny it became insignificant. Then he blocked his ears to Wolf's howls that floated up to him even at this distance and let himself sink into the redwoods' dreaming.
***
He went searching for Wolf in the end. He couldn't stay away. Wolf was the other part of him.
He found Wolf in a very sad state, whimpering and obviously distraught. He sat down beside Wolf and made soothing noises and rubbed his hands all over Wolf's flank and head, tugging at ears until Wolf turned over, showing his belly.
He sucked in a breath. This was a display of submission and also meant apology of wrong doing. He gently rubbed the skin on Wolf's belly and between his front legs until Wolf quieted down and then he lay down beside Wolf. When they had been staring at each other for far too long for a normal Wolf to feel comfortable, he tipped his head back, exposing his neck and throat, showing how sorry he was, too.
Wolf huffed at him and licked up his neck and over his jaw. Wolf's tongue went into his ear, which Wolf did on purpose and he made a squeaking noise of discomfort at the drool, but didn't move. Wolf laughed at him by opening his mouth and huffing out air.
Quickly, he wrapped his arms around Wolf's midsection and rolled over the top, wrestling with Wolf before he got up, laughing, and made Wolf chase him through the trees. Wolf ran quickly but not as quickly as him, though they were almost evenly matched. Whenever Wolf got too close, he cheated by sunlight-leaping away and waiting for Wolf to find him again.
***
Wolf took him back to the earth-wound a few more times and he allowed it, although he had no idea why as it had been a bad experience. He knew now that the something he'd thought was in the aspen forest was actually in the human place and was to do with the man who'd called out to him. Called him Stiles.
Once, after Wolf had gone over the wound and disappeared, he went closer. Wolf wasn't around to be bossy and the man hadn't come back since the first time. He picked a spot on the other side of the earth-wound and before he could talk himself out of it, he sunlight-leapt over. He had to take deep breaths being away from his forests for the first time, but he could always leap right back if he had to. He peered through the bushes and trees where Wolf always went and walked through the small gap. He was standing inside the bushes, under the shade of trees.
This place was familiar to him.
His eyes were drawn to the huge sycamore tree that grew in the open grassy area not very far from the human place.
The house. Home.
He wouldn't go any further and made sure he was faded into the surrounding nature, but he couldn't walk away either.
The back door to the house opened and his wolf-man came out. He stayed very still so he wouldn't be spotted. He didn't want Wolf to know he was there. He was afraid Wolf would ask him to step into the human world. He couldn't do that.
His wolf-man was looking right at where he was hiding but obviously didn't know he was there for certain as he called out, "Stiles?" just once.
Wolf hadn't used his human voice since the first time he'd chased him through the forest. Hearing it now made the block in his mind waver and almost fall. He shoved it back into place and as soon as Wolf had turned to go back inside, he sunlight-leapt back to the forest.
He ended up at the grove. He'd gone further than he'd been picturing, but he was shaken and drawn to the comfort of the Tree. He lay down on the stump and splayed out his hands, soaking up the Tree's presence and at the same time, strengthened the illusions that ran across the grove's boundaries.
He was slightly cross with himself for not remembering Wolf would immediately smell where he'd been.
***
He was laughing as he fell onto his back. He'd been running when Wolf had changed the game. Wolf had been different since the last foray to the man's home, needing to have almost constant contact. That wasn't a hardship because he liked Wolf's presence near him, but it made it difficult when they walked or ran.
When they slept, they were curled around each other, faces pressed up against the other's side or back or neck. For Wolf, he assumed it was the smell of him and his warmth. For him, it was the comfort of touch and scent and recently the image of wolf-man, that made him snuggle closer.
Right now, Wolf had tackled him and rolled with him until they ended up almost too winded to move. Wolf was on top of him, tongue hanging out in a grin.
He'd been contemplating wolf-man all morning and had blurry and confusing images running through his brain. This was Wolf, but also the man, lying on top of him. He groaned at how Wolf's body pressed against his own. He gently rocked up. This had occurred on a few other occasions, Wolf and him getting a bit too excited, but it was innocent and nothing ever came of it.
Wolf stilled, mouth snapping shut. Wolf didn't move away, though.
He rolled his hips upwards again, staring into his Wolf's eyes, curious as to what Wolf would do. The man's eyes overlaid his Wolf's. Green, so very green, sparkly blue, wolf gray. All jumbled up in his brain.
Wolf's head tilted sideways, hips minutely pushing downwards.
He groaned again. Today he liked this. He wanted his Wolf closer. He wanted more.
Wolf pushed downwards again, whining softly.
They started a slow grinding that made him sigh. He wanted these pants gone, they were in the way. He reached down to remove them and his hand wandered over hot fur and hardness.
Suddenly, his Wolf changed, and the man inside the wolf was lying on top of him. Fur gone, claws gone, still wolf ... only not.
He was a little bit taken aback, but he'd known his Wolf was more than just wolf, and now his Wolf's human face was up close. The green eyes were shocked wide and perfect.
His hand brushed against his wolf-man's stomach as he breathed out. He forgot about his pants as he rocked upwards again. It didn't matter; wolf, man, they were his.
His wolf-man groaned and he liked the sound of it, wanted to make him do it again. He wrapped his legs around him in encouragement. All of his wolf-man was skin and hot and hard muscles, and he wanted to feel all of it all at once.
In seconds, his wolf-man's face was against his neck, growling softly.
He titled his head to the side to feel the scratch of tiny facial hairs with the smoothness of wolf-man's lips on his skin. He made noises of his own and closed his eyes. He really liked this.
Wolf-man stopped. Pulled up, and held himself apart. "Stiles, wait."
He paused. He kept his legs on his Wolf's hips but didn't want to do anything that wasn't reciprocated.
"Stiles?"
He blinked. That was his name. He had a name.
"What are we doing?"
He didn't answer. He didn't know why his Wolf wanted him to use words now. Not now. Now should be about moving together until everything fit just right.
"Stiles, talk to me. Please."
He sighed, but if his Wolf wanted him to use words, he would. "Feels ... good." His voice had shaped sounds and laughter so it wasn't unused, but hearing words come from out of his mouth was a bit shocking to him.
The block in his mind wobbled.
"Yeah, it does, it feels real good. But, why?"
He was confused. "Feels good."
Wolf looked down at him. "Stiles, who am I?" Wolf's eyebrows were knitting together and he recognized that look, he was very familiar with that look.
The mind block cracked.
"My wolf!"
That was an easy question to answer. Silly Wolf, not knowing. How could he not know?
"Your wolf?"
"Yes. Mine! My wolf." He raised both hands and ran them down the sides of Wolf's face, then up into his hair.
Wolf smiled gently down at him. He smiled back, and lifted up his head to rub their noses together.
Wolf sighed. "Yeah, yours. Your wolf. But you don't really get what that means. Not with how you are right now. Stiles, what's my name?"
"My wolf." Now Wolf was being very silly, and he wasn't sure he wanted to play this game anymore.
"My name, Stiles, my name. Call me by my name."
He wanted to stop this, now. The mind block shifted, and he tried to shore it up. He looked away.
"Don't do that, don't retreat on me. Use my name, Stiles. Come on. Come back. Tell me my name."
He tried to scramble out from under Wolf, but was held firmly by his shoulders. He stilled and stared up at Wolf, not sure what to do. He wanted to run, but his Wolf looked so defeated. It hurt his heart, and he couldn't leave.
He touched Wolf between the eyes, stroked the furrowed brow. "Shhh," he whispered, wanting Wolf to feel better.
Wolf's forehead rested against his, and Wolf whispered, sadly, "Stiles, please. Come back to me."
The words reverberated inside him. He carded fingers through Wolf's hair until wolf looked at him once more. Wolf's eyes were so sad. He was hurting his wolf. A tear welled up and slipped down his cheek. Wolf thumbed it away and leant down. Lips pressed softly against the skin underneath his eye.
The mind block broke and fell down.
Everything that had been missing came rushing back all at once and he groaned at the massive headache that came with remembering.
"Derek!" Stiles gasped. He raised a hand to cover his eyes. "Derek."
Derek sighed in relief above him.
Stiles dropped his hand and squinted up at him. "Oh, God. I'm sorry." Saying sorry didn't even begin to make up for what he'd done. "I did it, didn't I? I left. I was okay with it. How long was I gone? You followed me? You stayed with me? Holy crap, I'm sorry. Fuck!" His head hurt. His chest hurt.
Derek moved off of him and Stiles was grateful for it because he'd almost used Derek again. What was wrong with him that even when he wasn't in his right mind he still wanted to take advantage?
"Stiles, follow my breathing." Derek placed one of Stiles' hands on his chest so he could feel the in and out of each breath.
Stiles focused on that, shutting his eyes because this headache was huge.
"Better?" Derek asked finally.
"Yeah," Stiles gritted out. While a panic attack hadn't eventuated, every word hurt his head. He opened his eyes before Derek could ask him how he was. The headache would pass.
"You okay?"
Stiles sighed internally. One day, Derek wouldn't have to ask him because he'd stop fucking things up. "Me?! Are you? I'm so sorry!" Stiles ignored the pain he was in.
"You've said that, there's nothing to be sorry for."
Stiles was seriously beginning to suspect that Derek's martyr complex wasn't healthy when paired with his own penchant for self-destructiveness. "Are you kidding me? I just, I was," he gestured between the two of them. "You don't want that."
"Don't I?" Derek mumbled. "Look, Stiles, don't worry about it, you and I are fine. When you're ready to work things out, we'll talk."
"Work things out? What?" His headache was mucking with his hearing.
"You're just not there right now."
"Why do I feel like I'm missing something here?" He couldn't help but press a knuckle to the corner of one eye to try to stop the throbbing.
"You are, but it's okay. Because we have time and I know enough for the both of us. So for now, just let this go."
Stiles said nothing, turning his head slowly, ever so slowly, to stare at Derek in disbelief. He tried to ignore the fact that Derek was lying next to him completely naked and apparently very unconcerned by that fact.
Derek shook his head at him. "Trust me and let it go. Nothing's wrong."
"Okay." Stiles would let it go because his head was about to explode. "How long have we been out here?"
"Just under four months."
Stiles groaned and used his reaction to the information as an excuse to rub at his forehead. "How's my dad?"
"I've kept him informed. Everyone knows you're alright," Derek explained.
"Ah, the house visits." It made sense now. "Is he okay from his fall?" Stiles really wanted to ask if his dad hated him still.
Derek touched his shoulder, and Stiles dropped his hands from his head reluctantly. "From the moment you left, your dad was completely gutted."
"I find that very hard to imagine," Stiles disagreed. He was still too emotionally hurt to be graceful about his anger.
"You overheard him letting off steam, not his true feelings, Stiles."
"Uh-huh. I just want to make sure he's okay, so is he?"
Derek sighed. "You're so stubborn, just like your dad. He twisted his ankle, but apart from beating himself up over the way things were left between you two, he's doing alright."
Stiles was relieved to hear his dad's injury wasn't too bad. He ignored the rest of what Derek told him. His dad had hurt him deeply and it was going to take more than Derek saying his dad was remorseful to have him believe it.
He sat up slowly, feeling faint. He covered it up with an exaggerated arm stretch. His dad's injury made him remember something else and he sucked in a sharp breath. "The man ... who abducted me —"
He was going to say more, but Derek cut in as he sat up, making Stiles avert his eyes as certain parts of Derek swayed with his movements. "Yeah, when you told us he'd been around the house, you can imagine what happened. Your dad got a patrol on the street and went back through the evidence to figure out who the guy is. He still doesn't come up in any data base though."
"He's got magic."
"How do you know that?" Derek asked, curious.
"He was trying to get to the Nemeton. I didn't remember who he was at the time, but he stopped after he got injured. I'm pretty sure he was using magic to get as close as he did." Stiles couldn't hide his feelings about what he'd done. There was a cold sense of fulfillment that settled in his gut when he recalled tricking the man into falling off the cliff.
"The guy wants to find the Nemeton?" Derek asked in a weird tone.
"Yeah," Stiles answered slowly.
"Hmmm. You sure?"
"You doubting me?"
"No. I guess not," Derek answered, reservedly. "Why don't you tell your dad?"
Stiles' headache was slowly edging away, but he winced and rubbed at his face because of Derek's question. "Um, no," he said. "Not gonna happen."
"Stiles, you guys really need to talk."
"No. I'm good with not talking."
Derek narrowed his eyes. "Listen to me, Stiles. I'm telling you that your dad has been worried sick about you."
"I bet."
"He regrets what he said. It's been almost four months, Stiles. You need to get your ass over to your house and talk to him."
Stiles raised his eyebrows at Derek's demand. He slowly stood up and put his hands on his hips. "Oh, really? And who's going to make me do that?"
Derek had stood up at the same time, even more pissed off than Stiles. And Stiles was angry enough that a full-frontal Derek sighting wasn't enough to curb it. "I will. You need to stop being such a shit and try to fix it."
"You'll make me, Derek? Maybe you could have before, but not now. So, if you want me to do this, you're going to have to convince me, because I'm absolutely fine with going back to the way things were just half an hour ago." Stiles was secure in having the upper hand here, and angry Derek had the nerve to tell him what to do.
"If you do that, Stiles, you'll be doing it without me," Derek said, firm in his answer, though his eyes tightened in worry.
Stiles flinched. Derek would leave him? He couldn't conceive of being without Derek now. "Why would you do that?" he couldn't help asking in a small voice.
Derek's mouth turned down. "I don't want to, but Stiles, you can't go on as you are."
Stiles rubbed at his forehead again as his eyes started to sting.
Derek continued, "I've never seen your dad like he is now, Stiles. If he could do anything to take back what he said, he'd do it. He loves you."
"No, he loves the me that was human." Stiles was still certain of that fact.
"No, you idiot. He loves you. Stiles, when you left, I thought he was going to end up in hospital, or worse."
Stiles was shocked. "Why?"
Derek threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. "Because he lost you again! We had no idea how to get you back. Every day made him loose a little bit of himself. And it was worse than when you were taken because he only had himself to blame this time. His heart broke just as much as yours did."
Stiles dropped his shoulders and head in defeat. "I didn't want to do that to him. I just wanted to get away," he tried to explain.
"You need to tell him, not me."
"And if I don't, you'll leave me?" Stiles was pushing on that fact, but he needed to make sure.
Derek stepped closer to him and Stiles allowed a hug. He rested his head on Derek's bare shoulder. "Honestly, it will kill me to do it. But I need to make you do this, you stubborn ass, and it's the only way to force you to. I'd rather you did it because you wanted to make amends with your dad, but I'll take what I can get."
Take what he could get. Stiles had a feeling Derek had been doing that with him for a while now. Stiles didn't deserve Derek's concern but somehow he had it. "I don't want things with my dad to be shitty, Derek," he began, "but I don't want to give him another reason to act like I'm the Creature from the Blue Lagoon."
Derek snorted, and when Stiles lifted his head, put his hand on the back of Stiles' neck. "You're not anything like that, Stiles."
"Dad looks at me like I am. I'm a monster to him."
"You'll find your dad has changed. We've all had a hand in it."
"All?" Stiles remembered the people he'd played tricks on. "Oh, God, you guys were trying to find me! Fuck, I'm sorry! I didn't know, honestly!"
Derek raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Let's leave that for another time. Yes, all. Some of us more diplomatically than others." He rested his forehead against Stiles. "Seriously, you need to talk to him."
"Yeah, I guess," Stiles conceded. He didn't agree with Derek, but he didn't want his dad to get sick over him, either. Not could he risk loosing Derek. He wasn't going to be able to forgive as easily as Derek thought him capable of, though. Stiles dropped the hug before he got carried away in touching Derek while he had no clothes on, and stepped back. "I'll meet my dad," he agreed. "But I won't go in the house." He held up a hand when Derek went to argue. "You've given your ultimatum, now I give mine. We can meet in the aspen forest."
"Are you sure that's wise?" Derek frowned.
"I don't care if it is or not. That's what I want. He can take it or leave it."
Derek thought for a minute, obviously wanting to say something but holding back. "Okay, I'll let him know."